


Tin Men

by shadowolfhunter



Series: Tender Is The Heart [1]
Category: Grimm (TV)
Genre: Cuddling, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, crack-y fluff, family recipes, vaguest hints of angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-10
Updated: 2015-07-10
Packaged: 2018-04-08 17:24:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 790
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4313838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shadowolfhunter/pseuds/shadowolfhunter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Weird goings on in the wee small hours</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tin Men

Nick is bone-tired. He can’t remember when he last felt this bad, this exhausted. His mind is like a hamster on a wheel, running and running, his mother, Juliette, Trubel, on a never-ending loop.

It all hurts so much.

If he never sets foot in that house again it will be too soon.

Frankly, if he never saw another Wesen again that would be kinda good too. But then he’s got friends, and it’s too cruel to say that or even think that.

Shit, he’s so messed up.

It doesn’t help that he’s expecting a baby, with the woman who started this whole mess off, and he’s being given a home by the man who’s had more than a finger in many of the pies which have so irretrievably screwed Nicholas Burkhardt’s life up.

The three of them have formed this uneasy little triumvirate in Sean Renard’s gorgeous, high-priced and slightly sterile home.

Nick has already accepted Adalind in his life. He cares, he can’t help it. She actually risked a great deal to try and save Juliette, that it didn’t work was not her fault.

Despite everything with Adalind and the baby, it’s Renard who occupies Nick’s thoughts. The man is quiet, withdrawn in a way he has never shown to his men or the public.

Nick knows that Renard is in pain. More pain that Nick has ever registered before, and none of it is physical. He’s fighting to hold himself together, but it’s getting harder to do.

Where Nick had never considered the Captain as a man with a heart, now he was being confronted with the man’s vulnerability, eerily it mirrored his own. For the first time Nick could recognize that they faced each other as uniquely damaged equals.

Since it’s three am, Nick’s downstairs, lying stretched out on Sean’s impressive yet curiously hideous couch trying to court something that he dimly recognizes as sleep, naturally things are not that convenient.

“Can’t sleep?” Sean’s voice sounds rough. It’s a hot night, the Captain has shed the pyjama top, but the pants ride low on his hips, revealing the Captain’s magnificent body to Nick.

“Nah.” Nick levers himself upright, as Sean moves to lower himself gingerly on the l-part of the couch. “Drink?” He says.

Sean thinks about that for about two seconds. It’s like they’re in some sort of time dilation field. Time speeds up and slows down as they orbit around each other, but carefully. Touching might set off some kind of chain reaction and Nick really isn’t sure he’s ready for that.

Sean nods.

Which Nick takes as the answer to his drink query. He doubts Sean had in mind what Nick is about to make, but they both need sleep, and explaining it would take way too many braincells. Far more than Nick supposes he still has left.

He steps into the kitchen, seeks out the milk, pulls out the bottle of Tortuga Rum that has been burning a hole in his brain since his last late night couch session. Why he chose to buy rum over the internet he really can’t figure, but the stuff is quality, and they deserve a little quality.

He reappears bearing two mugs, and presses one into Renard’s large, capable hand.

The zauberbiest sniffs, there’s the tiniest hint of something that might almost be called a pre-woge. “Warm milk…?” Renard looks up, Nick does not roll his eyes, Sean’s been looking grumpy for weeks.

“And rum.” Nick takes a sip. “Old family recipe.”

Sean looks, sniffs again, shrugs and takes a swig.

It may be an old family recipe, but Nick’s grasp of the proportions may be a) a little shaky, b) be heavily influenced by the need to actually get some sleep.

Sean coughs, his eyes go wide, and he gasps as he stares into the mug’s contents.

Nick shrugs and takes another, slightly longer, sip. “Okay, Aunt Marie’s recipe.”

Sean knew Nick’s late, un/lamented aunt was many things, but he had never pegged her as a lush. He was tough, he was a zauberbiest, he was larger and heavier than Nick and alcohol was all about mass and density and whatever he’d eaten earlier in the day.

It’s impressively late, there is a warm feeling spreading through Nick which could be well-being, but is more likely Tortuga Rum. The ugly couch is comfortable.

There’s this big, solid warm presence next to him, Nick rolls, and snuggles.

A tiny part of Nick’s brain notes that zauberbiests when slightly drunk, and full of warm milk, are inclined to make growly sort of purring noises, and are surprisingly comfortable to cuddle with.

When you’re building a life long Wesen archive, who knows what information you might need.


End file.
